


Houston, TX to Miami, FL

by nonverbalspell (AnionsareOnions)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Implied Violence, Implied homophobia, M/M, Semi-paranormal, Slow Build, Star Gazing, bus rides, pidge is nonbinary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9088105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnionsareOnions/pseuds/nonverbalspell
Summary: While waiting for his late bus out of town, Keith meets a boy with impossibly blue eyes who vanishes once Keith turns away for a moment. Though the boy is probably a figment of his imagination, Keith finds himself more and more determined to find him again.





	1. Leaving Odessa

**Author's Note:**

> Ive had the opening quote in a document for months now and as soon as i started writing on it, keith happened. So i went with it. Enjoy!

The world rarely stops, but when it does, it's nearly always at a bus stop. It comes screeching to a halt, exhaust fumes curling in the air, bending the fabric of time to stop in place and allowing the unlucky witnesses to feel the grips of their fragile existences amidst the endless possibilities and parallels. Life at a bus stop transcends this single plane of existence and stretches infinitely into the next, bringing the otherworldly feeling so many people experience while waiting. I suppose it should be mentioned that this phenomenon occurs not at every bus stop, but only those in remote places, such as the desert bench I am at now. It is here where the veil separating our world from the next is thinnest. There used to be stories of people disappearing just after being seen getting off a bus or leaving a bathroom; stories of men with wings and creatures with bright patches of dragon scales. These stories hardly ever seemed true or even believable. Maybe it was all just child’s talk.

 

Tonight, the bus stop was quieter than usual. The eight pm bus typically had more than a few riders; people on their way home or to a party too large for Odessa. I was the only one here today though. The bus sign hanging above creaked whenever a breeze rolled by, the warm air carrying bits of sand and the occasional brown leaf scraping against the concrete floor. The gentle hum of the soda machines and whirl of the ticket box were comforting background noises to the distant coyote calls as I stared into the encroaching darkness of the night.

 

“Stars always look best when you're out of the city, don't they?”

 

I jumped at the sound of the other person’s voice. A guy around my age was sitting next to me, legs splayed out on the bench, hands behind his head, eyes bright as they watched the stars. He must have felt my stare because not a moment later he turned his eyes down to me. They were the color of the sky just before dawn; the kind of color that draws you in deep and-

 

“Well?”

 

“Uh…” I tore myself from his dark blue eyes. “What?”

 

“Dude, I’m just trying to make small talk here!” He huffed but his eyes had an impish glint that betrayed him. “I asked what your name was.”

 

“Oh, uh, it’s Keith. What’s yours?”

 

“The name’s Lance,” he popped the collar to his jacket and winked. I didn’t even know where to start with that. “So now that that’s over with, where’re you heading off to this fine evening?”

 

“Houston.”

 

“Like, in Texas?”

 

I nodded.

 

“Dude, that’s so far! That’ll take forever by bus!”

 

“Well, not really.” I shrugged. “ Where are you going?”

 

“I’m going to Miami!”

 

“Florida? That’s far too.”

 

“I guess,” Lance shrugged. He turned his eyes back to the stars. “I won’t be able to see all these stars from the city. The light pollution will knock all but the brightest out of the sky.”

 

“Why are you going then?”

 

“Uh, I have some family there I’ll be staying with. Can’t really trade one for the other, you know?”

 

“No... I don’t.”

 

“Oh…” He turned his eyes away from me, looking off into the distance again. "Well it looks like a bus is heading this way. You getting on?”

 

I nodded before reaching down to grab my backpack. I saw Lance reach under the bench but I didn’t see his bag. It was probably under that ridiculous jacket of his. Seriously, who wears a jacket in sixty five degree weather?

 

The bus rolled up to us, dust billowing out from underneath the tires. The doors opened with a hiss. Lance rolled his neck along his shoulders before sticking his hand in his pocket. I shrugged my bag higher on my shoulder and started up the bus steps.

“Hey Keith, do you think we can exchange numbers?” Lance’s voice was right behind me, still outside. “I’m totally going to get some z’s on this ride and forget to ask later.”

 

“Huh? Oh yeah, sure.”

 

I dug my phone out of my pocket and turned but Lance was nowhere in sight.

 

“Hey kid, you getting on the bus or what?”

 

“Yeah...Did you see another guy here just now?”

 

“No, now quit fooling around, Kogane! You want to get to Dallas or not?”

* * *

 

This wasn’t the first time I’d gone to Houston. The first time was a year ago, when my plane landed in Houston’s airport, right on time. It was raining and thundering, but not enough to ground any other flights. I was very tempted to hop onto any plane going as far away from Houston as possible but airport security made sure I was in their sights the whole time. Mr. and Mrs. Gonzales were waiting for me at the exit. They looked excited to see me, to take me “home.” But I knew the look in their eyes. I'd seen it a lot the past few years.

 

Those first few weeks went pretty well; at least better than I had expected. The Gonzales’s were nice enough. They let me set up my room however I wanted and even let me wander around outside. Mr. Gonzales called it exploring and claimed it would build character. He let me have some of his old boy scout equipment to keep with me when I went out. But what I was never prepared for was the heat. Texas was hotter than I had thought it would be, even when fall rolled around. The a.c. inside buildings would always blast cold air to chase off the lingering heat from outside. The room my math class was in was like a massive meat locker and did more than keep the warmth off of us.

 

But school was part of the reason why I was going back to Houston, why I had gone back a few times in the past year. The other part was the Gonzales’s. They had seemed to intend well, but once they let slip that they only took me in for the money, they switched gears entirely. Every time I went to Houston, they would call the police and demand I be brought back immediately. They got away with it by painting me as the delinquent kid they were doing their best to control. I guess it sort of came true. A self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts.

 

“Hey Keith.”

 

“Huh?” I mumbled as the driver’s voice pulled me from my sleep deprived thoughts.

 

“Why do you keep going to Dallas? Is there anyone special waiting for you there?”

 

I didn’t have to look up to know he was wiggling his eyebrows at me. I relaxed and smiled at his teasing.

 

“Not really Jay. The Houston bus leaves from there early in the morning.” I paused for a moment to scratch my nose. “But I guess I just like the city life.”

 

“Hm, there’s something nice about small towns like this though. Your neighbors all know each other and look out for one another. Holidays are always accompanied by a block party. Buffets galore!” He hummed happily at that and patted his stomach. “My wife Darlene makes a mean beef brisket for Hanukkah every year. And her latkes?” He kissed his raised fingers in the bon Appétit gesture. “Exquisite! You’re welcome to come around any time, you know. Darlene won’t get jealous, haha!”

 

Jay and Darlene would have made great parents. I wish they had been the ones to take me. Maybe then I would have actually enjoyed living in Odessa. But as it stood now, I only really interacted with Jay when he drove the bus to the Dallas station. Then he turned right back around to a home that wanted him. From there to Houston, I didn’t have anyone.

 

“Another thing about big cities I never cared for was that the light polluted the sky. Could never see no damn stars! Talk about over development.”

 

That’s right. That guy from before - Lance with the not-northern-Texan accent - had mentioned not being able to see stars in the city. I guess they had a point. I could see more stars through the scratched bus window than I ever could in Houston.

 

“You’re right about that one, Jay.” My mouth and brain were forming different sentences at the same time. “They’re definitely a pro to living out here.”

  
Figure of my imagination or not, I wondered how the kid with the ocean eyes felt about leaving the stars behind.


	2. Alpha Beat-Cop

    It was nearly two in the morning when Jay and I pulled into Dallas’s bus station. He let me off, bee-lined to the bathroom, then came back and started taking the tickets for Odessa riders. There were five tonight, the usual number. A few of them looked completely wasted, the rest just look tired. I waved Jay off as he turned his bus around and headed back to Odessa. Once his bus left, the station was silent. There were no footsteps or hushed conversations or loud belches from people still nursing their drunkenness. The movies always made getting drunk on a Friday night look fun. But the reality of it was that it was incredibly lonely. The bus stations never saw the “fun” drunks or the gigglers or the partiers. They saw the sad ones. The ones who drowned their problems out in the alcohol and wandered around their own city like they were lost. I'd always wondered what happened to them in the morning.

 

    The next bus to Houston wouldn't be leaving until four in the morning so that gave me about two hours to sleep on the bench. I’d done it before and no one had ever really bothered me about it. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth but a minute later when I walked out, there was someone sitting at my bench. A certain jacketed someone I hadn't seen around before I went to the bathroom a moment before. I walked up behind him but he didn't seem to hear me. As I stepped closer, I saw the thin white cords of headphones twisting out of one of his jacket pockets. He was bobbing his head slightly in time to whatever he was listening to.  I wondered, briefly, if he had noticed my things on the bench when he sat down.

 

“Hey, you're in my seat.”

 

Lance jumped at the tap of my hand on his shoulder, his arms flailing and all, and knocked one of his earbuds from his ear. He whirled around with daggers in his dark eyes. The edge faded almost immediately when he recognized me though; his nose crinkled in confusion before his whole face brightened with a sheepish smile.

 

“Keith! Fancy meeting you here,” he scooted over to the other side of the bench before patting the spot next to my bag.

 

“Says the guy who stole my seat out of all these empty seats,” I gestured around as I took my seat. “How long have you been here anyway? I didn't see anyone a moment ago.”

 

“Well, I could say the same about you! One minute: no one. The next? BAM! I'm getting spooked by a ghost.”

 

“Oh please,” I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “I can assure you I'm not a ghost.”

 

“Then can you assure me that you aren't a zombie?”

 

“No… but I’m definitely not mothman.”

 

“Haha!” Lance actually threw back his head in laughter -I didn't think people did that outside of movies. “Keith old buddy old pal, you're a damn riot you are.” He wiped his eyes for tears that weren’t there. “Everyone knows mothman isn't real. Bigfoot is real. But not mothman,” he shook his head like he knew what he was talking about.

 

“That is where you'd be wrong. Mothman is out there Lance. He's out there waiting to be found.”

 

“You sound like that guy that talks about aliens all the time.”

 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

 

“Aliens aren’t real Keith,” Lance narrowed his eyes at me, a grin plastered across his face. This fool was playing me and I couldn’t not walk right into it.

 

“How could you say that?! The evidence is all here!”

 

“And where is ‘here’ hm? The dirt?”

 

“No! Have you even looked out into space? There's no way there isn't any other life in all of that.”

 

“Hm, I don't know about that.” His voice had more than a hint of teasing in it. “There just isn't proof.”

 

“Proof?” Even if I knew it was a joke to him, it was a serious matter to me. “I can give you proof!” I turned to fish my phone out of my bag. “Let me just find some videos.”

 

“Hey!”

 

The shout cut through my train of thought in an instant. It wasn't Lance’s voice, or anyone else’s that I knew for that matter. I froze and acted like it wasn't me being shouted for. It didn't work.

 

“You there! Is your name Keith?”

 

“Uh…”

 

I looked around the empty station, Lance missing once again, only to see one police officer stomping towards my bench. Even in uniform, he looked young. The cops that were usually sent after me were older white guys who’d force me into the back of their cars to drag me back to Odessa. Officer in question stopped a few feet away from my bench.

 

“I said, is your name Keith?”

 

“...No?”

 

“Oh it's not? My bad then,” the man rolled his shoulders in a casual shrug before crossing his arms and perching himself on the back of my bench where Lance's head had been not a minute ago. “It's kind of funny though. You fit the description I was given perfectly, even down to the haircut.”

 

“Funny coincidence, huh?” I tried to ignore his pointed stare by staring at his shoulder.

 

“Yeah, it really is.” He then lightly tapped his head. “Where are my manners- my name is Takashi Shirogane. You can just call me Shiro,” he extended his hand over to me, twisting awkwardly to reach.

 

“Uh, Lance.” Lying to a police officer while shaking his hand was definitely not my idea of fun.

 

    “Well Lance, you certainly are here late.  Where are you heading off too?”

 

    “Oh uh Houston.” I saw his eyebrows raise and the cogs in his head turning. I had to save my skin somehow. “I’m going down to surprise my grandma in the morning; I haven't seen her in so long.” Another lie to a state officer- I was so dead.

 

    “Your grandma huh? It’s nice that you're going to see her. I know I should have visited mine more often.” He gazed off into the distance quietly. I shouldn't have unlocked his tragic backstory by lying to him; I was so, so dead. “Well, it was nice chatting with you; you seem like a good kid. But I guess I should head back to work. Have to look for that runaway kid and all.”

 

    “Of course,” I’m sure he could hear the nervousness in my laugh. I was going to be found out and dragged back to the Gonzales's at any moment.

 

    “Here,” he pulled a notepad and pen off his belt and scribbled something onto it before holding out a slip of paper torn from the top. “That’s my personal phone number. Give me a call when you get home or anytime you just want to talk.”

 

    I nodded stupidly as I took the paper from him. He smiled as he stood up and rolled his shoulders again. He put a hand on my shoulder and leaned down a little.

 

    “Oh and Keith? Call your foster mom when you get to Houston. You got her worked up over this. Call her. It won’t end well for you if you don’t.”

  
    He walked away at that, leaving me free to whirl around in my seat and watch him climb into his cruiser and wave at me before driving off. I looked down at the crumpled paper in my hand for a moment before shoving it into my pocket. Shiro bought me some precious time by leaving me in Dallas. Might as well not let it go to waste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year everyone!


	3. Desert Hearts

That morning's drive to Houston had been the most stressful of them all. I had spent the early hours of the day staring out of the scratched bus window and watching the sunrise. I usually slept through the first couple hours of the ride so I always missed the warm red, pink, and orange streaks heralding the sun's imminent arrival. The stars faded from sight as the sky lightened to a soft blue, the warm colored clouds dotting the horizon. It was like the sky was on fire, trying to warm the cold world below. It was nice until the sun actually rose and blinded me with its winter rays. I decided I liked the sunset more.

 

After that, my thoughts jumbled back and forth from what Shiro had said and what I felt. On the one hand, I didn't want to go back to Odessa. I felt out of place in a town that could watch my every move and judge me silently in the form of teachers, students, and foster parents. It was like a giant cage that I could leave but only with the promise that I'd be dragged right back in. But on the other hand, Shiro was right about my foster mom making my life worse. She had already called for someone to get me; she used to not notice I was gone until I was already in Houston the next morning. That's when the police department there would get an angry phone call at seven in the morning from a woman halfway across the state yelling about her fifteen year old punk foster kid. If I kept this up, she would make living here that much worse. Ideally, she and Mr. Gonzales would give it up and send me off to the next name on the list. But I’d learned that she was very stubborn and very determined to make me straighten up. As if.

 

The bus rumbled beneath my feet, tossing the sleeping passengers back and forth. Some sleepily looked around while others just grunted and kept sleeping. Had I been sleeping, I would have been one of the latter. But too much had happened that night to let me sleep through the drive. Running from Odessa (again,) meeting a ghost twice, having a chat with a police officer: I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with all of it myself. But it wasn’t like the school counselor in Odessa had ever helped before.

 

The bus rumbled beneath my feet again, this time jostling all of the passengers around in their seats, waking up anyone still asleep. The bus rolled to a stop on the side of the road onto the dry dirt of the desert grasses. The driver grunted as he hopped out of the bus and walked towards wherever the engine was.

 

“Aye que pinga,” he shouted. He stuck his head back into the bus a moment later, “Sorry but the engine is smoking. We’re going to be stuck here for a while.”

 

The couple behind me groaned and grumbled something to each other in spanish I only half understood. Some of the others started checking their phones and calling people. The rest settled back in to try to go back to sleep. I gathered my things together and stepped off the bus to get some cross breeze in the shade of the bus. The early morning sun was bright but still low enough on the horizon to be blocked out for a while. I could hear the driver cursing and banging around on the other side of the bus. I felt bad for him having to work in the hot sun. I wished I had some water to offer him.

 

“Phew,” someone sat on the ground next to me, wiping their brow, “it sure is hot today.”

 

“Sure is.”

 

I turned to get a look at my new companion. He was big, definitely a good seven inches taller than me. He had his dark hair tied back out of his face with a small yellow headband. He grinned at me over a sandwich. I don’t know how I missed him on the bus.

 

“Hi, I’m Hunk. Nice to meet you.”

 

“I’m Keith. So what brings you out here?”

 

“Oh, I get car sick very easily. And hungry.” He shrugged. “Plus I wanted the fresh air.”

 

“Well, we’re in luck. Today’s a nice day, even if it’s a little sunny.”

 

“Oh I need the sunlight. It’s getting too cold for me.”

 

“So you’re heading to the Gulf?”

 

“Heading to Miami actually.”

 

“Miami? That’s not exactly right next door. Why are you heading so far east?”

 

“Trust me, I don’t want to. But my best friend decided to run off in the middle of the night.” Hunk chuckled and shook his head. “His mom asked me to go get him.”

 

“You know, it’s funny that you’re going to Miami.”

 

“Why’s that?”

 

“I met a guy headed there last night. Figures that Miami is popular in the winter.”

 

“Yeah...You didn’t happen to catch his name, did you?”

 

“Catch his name? Lance made damn sure I didn’t forget it.” I chuckled at the memory. It seemed almost like a dream. Or maybe a nightmare. Lance seemed to get that reaction from people. Or maybe it was just me. “The idiot popped the collar to his jacket and winked at me; who even does that?”

 

“Yeah that sounds like Lance,” Hunk said with a laugh. “He’s been like that since...well, since I met him way back in preschool. He can be a bit of a handful.”

 

“You can say that again...Wait did you say preschool?”

 

“Yeah! We’ve ended up in the same class together for years. Along with twenty nine other neighborhood kids.” He nudged my shoulder gently, “You know how small towns are. Tight knit cliques and all.”

 

“Yeah...I know those.”

 

“Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you around the school before. You must be in a different district because my school’s the only one in my area.”

 

“Must be. I haven’t seen you before either.” I tried to swallow down the tightness in my throat. “It would’ve been nice to have you around though.”

 

“Oh no, that means Lance would be there too. He’s a magnet for trouble. Trust me, you do not want any part of that.”

 

“He definitely gave off that vibe last night. It was something-”

 

“Something in the eyes? Yeah, it’s called evil.”

 

We laughed for a moment before and lounging back in the shade. Hunk finished off his sandwich and gulped down whatever was in his giant metal bottle before tossing it into a bag I hadn’t noticed before. He stood up and stretched his arms out.

 

“Alright I’m heading out. Do you need a ride anywhere?”

 

“A ride?”

 

“Yeah, I parked right over there.” He gestured to the rustling grasses in front of us. “I just walked over to eat and get some shade.”

 

“Uh…”

 

“Trust me, it runs fine! It looks really bad but with just the right touch, the engine sings.”

 

“I don’t…?”

 

“Hold on. I’ll go unlock the doors and stuff.”

 

He walked over to where he had pointed, the grasses barely moving with him, and fiddled with something midair. He swung his arm around then turned to face me. He beckoned me over with his free hand before flat-out vanishing. I sat in the dirt for a moment just staring at where Hunk had just been standing. I reasoned that the heat was getting to my head and that I should get back on the bus. The driver was just getting settled in his chair when I stepped onto the bus. I hadn’t heard him finish working on the engine.

 

“Oh good, I was just about to-” He looked me square in the face. “You don’t look too good, hombre. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 

“I think I just did…”

  
I decided take Shiro’s advice and call Mrs. Gonzales as soon as I got to Houston.


	4. Ghost Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao anyway thank you jeremy shada for saying lance is cuban you save d my life

It wasn’t often Lance was tracked down by his best friend. With that being said- Who was he kidding; he was always being tracked down by his best friend. He had just never gone so far. Maybe Miami was a little too far out of his mom’s comfort zone and maybe he was being a little irrational, but Lance was still upset with Hunk and pouted out the car window the whole way out of the city. It wasn’t like he had run away from home; he had just left without telling anyone. But he had definitely meant to call once he got to the bus station. And he had! But even his reasoning that he had went to see his abuela hadn’t worked on his mom and before he knew it, he was being dragged out of his grandma’s house by Hunk.

 

Okay, if he was being fair, he did leave without telling anyone at nine o’clock at night on a Friday. Maybe he should have told his mom he was leaving and maybe he shouldn’t have left at nine at night and maybe, just maybe, he should have asked Hunk to drive instead of taking the bus. Even the beat up truck would have gotten to Miami sooner than the bus, and that was saying something. So his mom was kind of in the right to be angry with him- he understood that. What he didn’t understand was how she got a hold of Hunk so quickly. Lance had always suspected that his mom had Hunk’s number on her phone but had no proof. Even this was a hunch at best for him.

 

The car lurched to a stop as they hit the light at the intersection of route one and Fleming street. The green mile zero sign seemed to taunt Lance. He shivered as a gust of cool air hit him.

 

“Would you turn the air down, man? It’s already freezing out here.”

 

“The air’s not on Lance. I’m afraid it’s just that cold.”

 

“Oh right, and your piece of junk here can’t heat anything. Uh huh, forgot about that.”

 

“Don’t you talk about her like that.” He lightly stroked the steering wheel. “She’s sensitive.”

 

“Hunk, buddy, why do you even keep hauling this truck around? It can barely get to school, how'd you get it all the way up to the city?”

 

“I’ll have you know this car is like my- a baby. You have to give it care and attention for it to shine.”

 

“So, you stopped three times on the side of the road because the engine overheated even in this absurdly cold weather,” Lance shot a dirty look out of the window, “then had to kick the wheel a few times to get the thing to turn on?”

 

“Pretty much,” Hunk nodded with a shrug. “But hey! One of those times was to eat lunch.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Lance propped his head up on the window sill and sulked at the clouds. “Took advantage of a bad situation?”

 

“Actually no; for your information, I had no issues starting the car that time. I met this guy though.”

 

“Oh?” Lance perked up at that and wiggled his eyebrows at Hunk. “I thought you liked that girl from-”

 

“She’s just a friend whom I respect very much but that’s not what I meant by met.”

 

“Well then don’t leave me hanging! Who’d you meet?”

 

“This guy- I don’t know, it was really weird. He was sitting in the shade one minute, then he was gone!”

 

“Uh huh,” Lance nodded sagely. “And I’m the tooth fairy.”

 

“No no, I’m serious! I asked if he needed a ride but when I got in the car to get it started, he had vanished!”

 

“He probably saw the car, got scared, then hid in the trees.”

 

“Maybe,” Hunk shook his head. “But even with that, it was still weird.”

 

“Any weirder than offering a forest stranger a ride in a beat up truck heading to Miami?”

 

“Actually, yes.” Hunk pulled into the McClain’s grassy driveway and parked before turning to Lance, a strange look on his face. Lance placed it as something between confusion and curiosity. “This guy said he had met you last night. Said his name was Keith.”

 

“Keith?” Lance’s face fell into a thoughtful pout. “You must be a mind reader because I had a dream on the bus about someone named Keith.” Lance chuckled, “He was pretty funny actually; Props to my subconscious for being hilarious.”

 

“You dreamt about meeting someone named Keith?”

 

“Yeah, funny coincidence right? But I knew it was a dream right away because,” Lance gestured to his head in a sweeping motion, “he had this ugly mullet thing going on up here. And he wasn’t wearing a jacket! It’s like- sixty degrees down here.”

 

“Okay, number one: it’s seventy four. Maybe he was from up north and didn’t need a jacket?” Hunk ignored Lance’s disbelieving expression. “And number two: the Keith I met had a mullet and wasn’t wearing a jacket.”

 

“Okay...Still doesn't mean it isn't just a coincidence…”

 

“Come on, Lance!” Hunk nudged his friend’s arm until he grinned. “Do you remember anything else about dream-Keith?”

 

“Not really.” He caught Hunk’s disapproving face in the corner of his eye. “What? I don’t usually remember dreams.”

 

“Well the Keith I met said, and I quote, that you ‘popped the collar to your jacket and winked’ at him.”

 

“You know? That does sound like something I’d do.”

 

“Seriously Lance? Flirting with strange boys, real or imagined, is not how I raised you.”

 

“Sorry _mom_.” Lance laughed and rolled his eyes at Hunk. “Next time I’ll be sure to ask for a background check before any flirting happens.”

 

“LANCE!”

 

“Whoops,” Lance winced and peeked out over the dashboard to the front door of his house. He saw his mom marching towards the car.

 

“This doesn’t end here,” Hunk hissed at him in his best attempt at whispering before hopping out of the truck. “Hi Mrs.McClain.”

 

“Hello Hunk. I’m glad to see you both got back safe. Did Lance give you any trouble on the drive here?”

 

“Hey, I resent that,” Lance called out from the open truck window.

 

“Aye don’t start with me, mijo. You had me worried when you called and woke me up.”

 

“Ma, you were already awake when I called from grandma’s house. She’s fine, by the way.”

 

“Lance…” She sighed and shook her head. She smiled up at Hunk. “Sorry about all of this. I’m making ceviche tomorrow if you want to stop by.”

 

“Oh, I’d love to! No one makes ceviche like you do. Even I haven't figured out to get it just right.”

 

Lance shut the car door with a roll of his eyes.

 

“Just keep at it,” She reached up to pat Hunk’s shoulder. “You’ll get it. Now go on. I'll see you tomorrow night.”

 

“Bye Mrs.McClain!” Hunk grinned at Lance, a subtle smirk tugging at his face. “Bye Lance.”

 

“Later Hunk.” Lance scowled at his friend leaving him for dead. So much for solidarity.

* * *

 

dont feed after midnight named the group what in the FUCK happened last night

SAT 11:37 PM

[the yellow pretty patty]: so have the waters receded?

[that kid from the magic bus show that everyone hated]: for the most part. she was upset but mostly bc she didn't realize I was gone until I called her

[that kid from the magic bus show that everyone hated]: she was glad grannie was alright tho

[the yellow pretty patty]: I'm glad too. you seemed really shook up when you got the news

[the yellow pretty patty]: but since everything else had quieted down

[the yellow pretty patty]: let's get back to mystery Keith

[the yellow pretty patty]: you have to remember something else about him! like his hair color! you remembered the style

[that kid from the magic bus show that everyone hated]: because it was ugly

[the yellow pretty patty]: aaaand?

SUN 12:23 AM

[that kid from the magic bus show that everyone hated]: his hair was black and kinda fluffy

[that kid from the magic bus show that everyone hated]: he had steely gray eyes

[that kid from the magic bus show that everyone hated]: but also kinda bluish. like light reflecting off metal

SUN 12:57 AM

[that kid from the magic bus show that everyone hated]: idk why I dream flirted with him he's not my #Type

[that kid from the magic bus show that everyone hated]: but overall 7/10 would dream flirt again

[dont feed after midnight]: this is a group chat lance not a psychoanalyst session

[that kid from the magic bus show that everyone hated]: shut up pidge!!!


	5. It's coarse and it gets everywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday hunk!!! Even tho hes not in this chap but ya know how it goes capricorn pride and all that jazz

The upcoming winter break hadn’t excited me as it had the year before. In fact, I was looking forward to going back to school in the new year. Mrs. Gonzales made sure I had almost no freedom to roam the desert or the town or wherever like I was allowed last winter. Sure, it kept me away from the high school groupies that liked bothering me whenever they could, but it also meant I was under house arrest. In all honesty, I would have prefered the harassment.

 

But even with the proverbial door locked from the outside, I still managed to find a way out of the house and out of Mrs. Gonzales’s tight clutches. One call to the young state trooper from Dallas and a short conversation later convinced Mrs. Gonzales to allow me to spend a week with Shiro at his apartment in Dallas. She kept going on about how I ‘needed a role model’ and that ‘this would be the perfect opportunity to set me straight.’ It was almost as if she had forgotten that it was Shiro’s idea to let me stay and he had no intention of lecturing me. But she continued crowing about herself until it was time for Shiro to take me to Dallas.

 

She had sat on the front porch the morning Shiro was supposed to pick me up. Maybe it was to pretend she cared for my safety with a stranger. Most likely it was to make sure it was actually a police officer she had talked to, not some ‘low-life hooligan’ I had asked to help me escape. She was noticeably shocked when Shiro -still in uniform- pulled up in a large truck, as if she had really thought I would lie about a police officer. The dry dirt crunched under Shiro’s feet when he stepped out of the truck. He looked at the house and saw me watching through the front window. He smiled and waved, not realizing how much he’d already done for me. Gonzales stomped up to him. I sighed as I closed the front door behind me.

 

“So you’re officer...Takashi?”

 

“Yes, ma’am. I’m here to pick up Keith like we discussed.”

 

“Is he going to sit in the back behind the cage?”

 

“Um…” Shiro shot me a questioning look over Gonzales’s shoulder. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He looked back at Gonzales quickly, “Of course not. I’m off duty and he’s not a criminal.”

 

“He could have fooled me.” She shot me a venomous look before turning a bright smile to Shiro. “Well I'm eternally grateful for you taking him in this week. I'm sure he won't get into any trouble under your careful eye.”

 

Shiro definitely did not miss the thinly veiled threat Gonzales had directed towards me. When I stopped next to him, he placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled at me; it seemed a little forced, even to me. I tried warning him that my foster mom would most likely test his patience. He gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

 

“Why don't you put your bag in the car? You can toss it in the back.”

 

I happily obliged. The dirt under my feet dusted up in a cloud with every step I took towards Shiro’s huge truck. The doors were unlocked so I put my bag on the back seat. There was a cage separating the front seat and the back, just like Gonzales had said. For once I wasn't making the five hour drive behind one; I smirked at the coiled metal. I turned back to Shiro with a slam of the truck door behind me. He raised his eyebrows at me.

 

“So are you ready to go?”

 

“Yeah, just about.”

 

Gonzales glared at me from behind Shiro, a silent threat to not mess up this opportunity for her. It figured that she wanted in with the police. Then they'd believe her whenever she made shit up about a ‘delinquent’ foster kid. I had a feeling Shiro wasn’t the type to fall for it though.

 

“It was nice meeting you ma'am,” Shiro turned to Gonzales to shake her hand. The glare fell clean off her face in an instant.

 

“Oh yes of course! And don’t hesitate to tell me of any misbehaving. I will handle the punishment.”

 

“There won't be any need for that,” Shiro shifted on his feet almost nervously. He turned back to me, “Alright, let's be off then.”

 

The two of us got settled in the car as Gonzales trailed behind us. She shot me a pointed look as I closed the passenger side door. Shiro started the engine and I rolled down the window.

 

“Bye Mrs. Gonzales,” I gave her a cheerful wave. “See you in a week!”

 

She wasn’t happy about that.

 

I had to curb the temptation to laugh as Shiro pulled out of the driveway and onto the road. Watching my little blue prison fall into the distance in the side view mirror was pretty therapeutic. Shiro chuckled softly.

 

“I know you hated being there but was the sarcasm really necessary?”

 

“Definitely. I told you what she was like. I saw how you were acting.”

 

“Yeah but I- I don’t know. She just reminded me of someone I once knew.”

 

The car stopped at a red light. Only a few more lights until we got on the highway and towards non-stopping freedom.

 

“Hey uh…” Shiro smiled out into the road ahead of us, glancing at me every so often, “Sorry to ask but, how long have you lived there?”

 

“It’s been a little over a year now,” I sighed. “I got moved here just before my first year in highschool.”

 

“New kid in a small school in a small town huh? Must have been different from where you came from.”

 

“Not really. The family before this one lived in Madrid, New Mexico.”

 

“The family before? Were they another foster family?”

 

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I've had four in fourteen years.”

 

“Four?” Shiro gave me a surprised look. “Listen, I don't know much about the fostering system, but I was adopted. And I believe that a family that takes you in should care about you.”

 

“In my experience, they only care about the money. And if they don’t, they care about compliance.”

 

The car was silent after that, save for the low hum of the engine. I think Shiro was genuinely surprised by the truth of the matter. Maybe it wasn't like that for other kids but that's how it was for me.

 

“I'm sorry, Keith.”

 

“No, you just asked-”

 

“You didn’t deserve that.”

 

“...What?”

 

“What happened to you,” Shiro smiled at me softly, “You didn't deserve it. You should have gotten a family that loved you unconditionally.”

 

“I...thanks Shiro.”

 

“So, uh, about the living arrangements for this week,” Shiro merged into the left lane and picked up the speed. That did not go unnoticed to me. “I've already cleared out the guest room and put clean sheets on the bed for you. You're welcome to use the kitchen or tv for whatever you want. I was thinking about running to the grocery store when we get there.”

 

“That sounds fine to me. Thank you again, Shiro.”

 

“It's no problem. I should have this week off from the precinct so you don't have to be alone in the apartment but I might get an important call or two to come in.”

 

“Oh yeah? Who would be calling if it isn't the precinct?”

 

“I'm not supposed to say,” Shiro’s face fell into an exaggerated frown before he winked at me. “But I'll let you in on the secret. I get called in to escort NASA personnel to and from the Houston headquarters.”

 

“No way. So you know real astronauts?”

 

“Well, not astronauts. They tend to spend most of their time and training in Florida. I do know some of the command room scientists though.”

 

“Woah. Top NASA scientists...what are they like?”

 

“The ones I’ve met are interesting to be around. There's one -he's around my age- who is convinced space exploration will turn up alien life one day. His father, however, is a little more hesitant to agree with certainty.”

 

“Both of them work for NASA?”

 

“Yeah, the Holts. They're good people. I've escorted them a few times. Samuel’s other kid is interested in space too. We skype every so often. Mostly when their dad and brother are in town up here.”

 

“That's cool! Is that the call you're expecting?”

 

“Actually, yes. Samuel emailed me about a week ago to give me the heads up. He didn't know the exact day though.” He shrugged, “But that’s besides the point. I understand you’ve only been to the Dallas bus station at night?” I nodded, he seemed pleased with that. “Good, because I was thinking about driving you around the city to see some of the sights there.”

 

“Already sounds like a better plan than I had.”

 

I had always considered Dallas as being too close to Odessa for comfort. It was close enough for me to check behind me every so often for Mrs. Gonzales or anyone else that might have recognized me. Houston gave me the illusion that I could leave; Dallas was just the middle-man to my escape. People disappeared there all the time, and not just in the criminal way. Lance had run for the hills as soon as Shiro had pulled up, for example. His loss, honestly. But, in my hatred of Odessa, I ended up hating Dallas as well. The cold city that had only ever given me freezing nights and a handful of drunks had now given me Shiro and Lance...maybe now it wouldn’t be so bad.


	6. Kitchen nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy season two everyone!

    It was only a couple of days into my week with Shiro when he got the call. He drove down to Houston early the next morning so he could be back in time for dinner; he had excitedly told me that the recipe he was using was his mom’s grandmother’s and it was their favorite. He gave the flash card to me as he was leaving and asked if I could start prepping it before he got back. I wasn't sure if I could have left the apartment without him even if I had wanted to but I figured I didn't have anything else to do anyway. He was definitely putting too much faith in my culinary skills despite the disaster he had seen the first night. But believing in others was apparently his “thing” so I went with it.

 

After Shiro left, I had the apartment to myself. It was quiet, but not desert quiet. It was as quiet as a city could get, I suppose. There weren't any coyotes howling in the distance but I could hear the hum of the road below through the window and the upstairs neighbors stomp around their apartment. Shiro's refrigerator didn't rumble like Mrs. Gonzales’s occasionally did, and his lights didn't crackle with excess power when I flipped a switch. If this was the kind of apartment every college graduate got, maybe I wouldn't as bad off as I thought.

 

It was sometime after lunch when I got a text from Shiro. I had been flipping through the local channels on tv trying to find something interesting to watch. Odessa didn't get nearly half as many channels as Shiro got; everything I found seemed interesting. I was watching some program about an endangered badger hunting for food when my seat vibrated. It took me a moment to find and retrieve my phone from where it had fallen through the couch cushions.

 

3:17 PM

[Shiro]: Hey I just finished up down here. start prepping the chicken and I'll be there in a few hours!

[Keith]: and youre sure I don't have to do anything but thaw it and season it?

 

[Keith]: Shiro?

 

[Keith]: oh no

 

    That was when the fear set in. Actually, it wasn’t so much a fear, as it was a panic. Cooking had never been one of my strongest talents. Sister Bridget tried to teach me the basics a few years ago, but even her patience wore thin.

 

“Uhh…You put the chicken where?” I had a frozen chicken part in one hand and the recipe card in the other, trying to look for what I needed. “Vegetables go in a colander? I don't even know what that is!”

 

A disaster and a half later, there were two chicken breasts thawed and seasoned in a pan, vegetables washed and draining in a colander (a strainer, jeez,) and oven preheated to 350 degrees. Thank god for the internet.

 

Shiro walked in whistling some tune, sounding oddly cheerful to be entering a war zone. I was perched on a bar stool, watching the oven slowly heat up, activity by the front door catching my attention in my peripherals. Shiro smiled at me.

 

“How's it going?”

 

“Meh.”

 

“Oh! And the oven is almost ready! Thanks for helping me out there. I wouldn't have planned this if I knew Sam was going to be in town today.”

 

“I just hope I didn't mess up the spices,” I shrugged.

 

“No this looks fine. I can't wait to eat it.”

 

“I can.”

 

Shiro pushed the chicken into the oven, closed the door, and shot me a disappointed look over the counter. He looked like he was going to start lecturing me or something when his phone buzzed loudly on the counter next to his keys. He stepped over and grabbed it.

 

“Hey can you hear me? Yes? Wait…” Shiro fumbled with his phone for a second before turning it to face him. “There we go. Hi Pidge.”

 

“Hey Shiro. How did my dad and brother look?”

 

“They seemed fine; Sam said he was a little tired from the flight but they're okay.”

 

“Nice, I’m glad there weren’t any problems. Airports have been more than a little unsafe recently.”

 

“Only the best for high ranking NASA scientists, I suppose,” Shiro chuckled. “Oh yeah, Pidge,” Shiro moved the phone over a little to show me in the frame. “This is Keith. He’s spending the week with me.”

 

“Keith?”

 

“Hello,” I waved. The kid behind the screen raised an eyebrow at me.

 

“I don't suppose you are related to Shiro?”

 

“Uh…”

 

“He’s a friend.” Shiro grinned at me. “He needed a place to stay over the winter break and I offered my place.”

 

“That reminds me Shiro- I was going to ask how the weather was up there.”

 

“We’ve been hitting the lower sixties these past couple of days,” Shiro nudged my arm with a smile. “It's getting a little warm for us.”

 

“Lower sixties?! We’ve been getting mid seventies all break and all anyone ever does is complain about how cold it is!”

 

“That's what happens when you live way down south, kiddo.”

 

“Wait…” I caught Pidge’s eyes flick towards me, even on the tiny screen. “Where do you live that it's so warm?”

 

“Shiro,” Pidge adopted a mock-whiney child’s voice, “isn't this stranger danger?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Shiro chuckled and waved me down. He gestured to Pidge.

 

“Usually, yes. But Keith is a good kid.”

 

“Aw, if you say so,” they fluttered their eyelashes sweetly at Shiro before giving me a cold stare. “My family lives in Key West.”

 

“Like, in Florida?”

 

“Yeah. Crazy small everything. Except wallets. Everyone here is f-”

 

Shiro inhaled sharply. Pidge nearly flinched. I could see Shiro enter lecture mode.

 

“Freaking loaded.”

 

Shiro visibly deflated. Pidge and I both sighed in relief.

 

“I’ve met some people from Florida. At least, they were headed to Florida. They didn't seem…” I thought of Hunk and how he described his car. Probably not a Mercedes.

 

“Like the top one percent?” Pidge nodded sagely. “We get all sorts here, not just the rich a-” They coughed, “rich buttholes.”

 

“I actually grew up in Key West. I moved there when-”

 

“When you were seven,” Pidge and I answered together. Pidge laughed at that; they seemed like an alright kid. “I’ve heard that story a hundred times by now.”

 

“Keith hasn't!”

 

“You told me in the car on the way here. You were kind of rambling.”

 

“Well!” Shiro huffed and looked around. “Well, we have to go. Our chicken is burning!”

 

“Bye Shiro,” Pidge called in a singing voice, half cut off by Shiro hanging up the call.

 

“How...old are they?”

 

“Pidge? They're ten. Certified genius and pain in their parent’s asses.”

 

“And yours by extension?”

 

“Haha...But yes.”

* * *

 

smol Christmas elf changed the group name to Texas is gay now

7:38 PM

[smol Christmas elf]: wait when did my name change

[smol Christmas elf]: I bet this is lances fault

[that kid from the magic bus show that everyone hated]: AHAHAHAAAA FINALLY

[that kid from the magic bus show that everyone hated]: RECOGNITION

smol Christmas elf changed Lance McClain’s nickname to jerk mcbutt

smol Christmas elf kicked jerk mcbutt out of the group chat

[smol Christmas elf]: anyway

[the yellow pretty patty]: yeah anyway

[the yellow pretty patty]: Pidge what's up with the group name? why is tx gay now

[smol Christmas elf]: Matt got there today

[the yellow pretty patty]: ooooh did he talk about Shiro *insert Matt voice*

[smol Christmas elf]: I definitely could do without him gushing but yeah he did

[smol Christmas elf]: I called Shiro a little after that

[smol Christmas elf]: he's busy fostering this kid for a week

[the yellow pretty patty]: oh? our age?

[the yellow pretty patty]: well, my age?

[smol Christmas elf]: I think so? he seemed nice.

[the yellow pretty patty]: did you get his name?

[the yellow pretty patty]: oh hold on Lance is bugging me in a private chat

the yellow pretty patty added Lance McClain to the group chat

[jerk mcbutt]: real mature Pidge

[smol Christmas elf]: nah I didn't get his name

[jerk mcbutt]: wait who's name

[smol Christmas elf]: just some guy. most likely real but who knows

[jerk mcbutt]: what?????


	7. Are you smarter than a fifth grader?

Pidge was a smart kid. Pretty much everyone told them that. Their test scores had bumped them up so far ahead of their classmates that the Holt’s petitioned to move their youngest kid up the grade ladder to challenge their intellect with high school classes and social circles. It was kind of like the Matilda story, but even college level biology, chemistry, and physics did not challenge Pidge the way anyone wanted. They learned information too quickly to stay interested and so did other things to apply the knowledge. Those things tended to be building models. No one liked it when Pidge built models.

 

It wasn't a matter of the system putting a hold on Pidge’s creative energy, but a matter of legality. Pidge put into practice, quite literally, what they were being taught in classes. Sometimes even during an important lab they weren’t allowed to leave early from. Even though everyone thought Pidge’s model nuclear fission generator was interesting, they were later disturbed to find that the model was actually a miniature working generator. The engineering teacher was never impressed.

 

But even besides all the inherently illegal building that went on, Pidge found trouble in other ways. Such as reprogramming the school’s microphone system to blast the theme song of He-Man every morning at 7:30 instead of the school’s alma mater. While the principal was mildly entertained (and impressed- everyone knew he was a fan,) the vice principal demanded harsh punishment to whomever was responsible. Pidge never stepped forward (everyone knew it was them) and the theme was never removed. So every morning, right as the principal turned on the system to make announcements, the students were greeted with He-Man. As expected, the students were thrilled.

 

Pidge however, was not. The He-Man theme played in the morning like it had every morning for months; the joke was lost on mostly everyone. The only ones still thrilled about it were the principal (he was very low key about it though) and Lance. Lance, who sat a few rows away from Pidge, was dancing in his seat a little. Just enough to catch attention to himself. He did that every morning.

 

7:32 AM

[smol Christmas elf]: how are you even alive this early

[the yellow pretty patty]: I'm not

[the yellow pretty patty]: this class is too boring for early morning

[jerk mcbutt]: uh duh? two café con leches and im good

[jerk mcbutt]: I can ask my mom to make some extra for you two if you want

[smol Christmas elf]: oh no

[the yellow pretty patty]: your mom puts waaaaay too much sugar

[the yellow pretty patty]: I don't know how you can drink two

[the yellow pretty patty]: if I drank two id be hanging out with Keith in the astral plane again

[jerk mcbutt]: I told you before! THAT Keith was just some forest hitchhiker

[jerk mcbutt]: mine however

[jerk mcbutt]: ;)the yellow pretty patty kicked jerk mcbutt out of the group

[smol Christmas elf]: :0

[the yellow pretty patty]: nasty

 

Pidge snickered at Lance’s badly disguised groan. The principal’s staticky voice went through the various announcements and New Years wishes which mostly everyone ignored anyway. Even their geometry teacher was lazily flipping through an old yearbook and scribbling in the margins.

 

7:46 AM

[smol Christmas elf]: anyway, hunk are you excited for the competition next week?

[the yellow pretty patty]: yes! I'm pretty much almost done with finishing touches and whatnot. I did deviate from our original designs tho

[smol Christmas elf]: that's fine, I was planning on going over the code again anyway

[smol Christmas elf]: I can make some modifications if needed

 

Pidge was tapping at their phone when a paper ball sailed through the air and hit them on the head. Pidge looked up, startled, to find the weapon in question on the floor next to them. They glared up at Lance, who was hiding his face behind a folder.

 

Pidge huffed and scooped up the crumpled paper into their hand. It crinkled as Pidge unfolded it and smoothed it out against the edge of the desk. Lance’s scrawled handwriting stretched across the wrinkled paper.

 

please add me back! :(

 

Pidge sighed and balled the paper back up. They could see Lance pouting in the corner of their eye. The announcements were ending and Pidge wanted to at least pretend they were paying attention to math. It would be impossible with Lance’s pestering.

 

7:50 AM

smol Christmas elf added jerk mcbutt to the group

[jerk mcbutt]: yaaay

[smol Christmas elf]: don't say I've never done anything for you

jerk mcbutt changed Pidge Holt’s nickname to good and gracious savior

[jerk mcbutt]: oh yeah your robot thing is next week

[jerk mcbutt]: where's it being held?

[the yellow pretty patty]: miami

[jerk mcbutt]: CAN I GO PLEASE????

[the yellow pretty patty]: I dunno

[the yellow pretty patty]: it's a school thing

[jerk mcbutt]: pleeeaaaaseeee?? aren't you driving? no one will know!

[the yellow pretty patty]: I'm driving because Pidge and I are the only club members who qualified

[jerk mcbutt]: aka the only ones in the club

[the yellow pretty patty]: >:0 that's not true and you know it

[the yellow pretty patty]: and shouldn't you be paying attention to Gomez?

[jerk mcbutt]: shouldn't you??

[the yellow pretty patty]: I've already gone over this chapter with Pidge. we did the problems over the break

[jerk mcbutt]: nerds

[jerk mcbutt]: whatever I'll just copy Pidge

[good and gracious savior]: I think the fuck not

[jerk mcbutt]: aw :(

* * *

 

Banished to the back seat of Hunk’s car, Pidge sat behind Lance for the exact purpose of bothering him at any given moment during the drive up to Miami. That, and to keep an eye on the robot carefully strapped into the seat behind Hunk. They had dubbed it the S.S. Irony because it was neither a ship nor made of iron. Lance crowed with pride when Hunk told him; something about “his children growing up” and “the students thus surpass the master.” Except not really because a moment after he said that, he cracked three jokes in a solid 60 seconds. Pidge knew it was going to be a long drive.

 

A couple of hours later, they had just hit the mainland. Lance and Hunk were blasting music from their middle school years (which -Pidge assumed- was music from their own elementary school era) and Pidge ignored them and the unfamiliar music and gulped down the last bit of their Coke. This was a mistake. Pidge was soon tapping Lance’s shoulder to ask him to turn the music down to ask Hunk to pull over to a roadside bathroom.

 

“Aw come on Pidge, we’re only an hour and a half from the place!”

 

“Lance,” Pidge drawled out, “I got to go!”

 

“Ugh fine,” Lance groaned. “Hunk? You heard the kid.”

 

“Yeah there's a stop in a mile.”

 

“Nice.”

 

A short wait later, Pidge sighed in relief as they walked out of the concrete bathroom building. They stretched and stared out into the Everglades, eyes glazing over the trees into tall, green blobs. Suddenly the green shapes became a black and red shape that passed slowly across their vision, breaking the emptiness of space. Pidge shook their head and a semi-familiar mullet came into focus.

 

“Keith?”

 

“Wha-”

 

Keith spun around on his heel, losing his balance in the spin, and toppled over a conveniently placed log bench. Pidge tried to look only mildly amused at his bewildered expression. They waved Keith over to the building where they were standing. Keith obliged but approached cautiously.

 

“Hey Keith!”

 

“Uh...Hi Pidge.”

 

“So what are you doing out here? Skipping class?”

 

“No!” Keith’s face paled at the defensiveness in his own voice. He swallowed hard, “No, I’m...I’m out hiking with my foster dad. He’s somewhere over there,” Keith gestured towards the treeline where Pidge had first seen him.

 

“Oh alright then…” Pidge eyed Keith’s backpack and outfit. The hiking gear seemed to check out. “How was your week with Shiro? Are you back in school yet?”

 

“Yeah but Mr. Gonzalez -that's my foster dad- wanted to show me something out here.”

 

“Out here? A little far from home isn't it?”

 

“Well yeah, it took a few hours to drive here but Gonzalez says it's worth it, so.”

 

“I see. Well, I’m heading to Miami with some friends for a robotics competition.”

 

“Really? That's really cool! I hope you do well.”

 

“Yeah...actually if I could have your number I could tell you how it goes!”

 

“Sure. I don't have signal out here but if you send a text I can reply later.”

 

“Perfect.”

 

Keith fished a scrap of paper out of his bag and Pidge offered him a pen. Keith took a moment to scribble his phone number onto it before handing it back to Pidge.

 

“There you are. I hope to hear that your robot beat up everyone else’s.” Keith then froze and stared at Pidge for a second. “Hold on, you were here visiting your dad right? Shiro told me you do that sometimes.”

 

“What?”

 

“You come to Houston to see your dad and brother? Although you're a little far from the city aren't you?”

 

“Uh yeah. My friends got lost.”

 

“Pidge we have to leave,” Hunk shouted from somewhere in the distance.

 

“Whoops, anyway I got to run. Talk to you later Keith!”

 

“Later,” Keith gave Pidge a small wave before turning back towards the tree line.

  
Pidge hurried back to Hunk’s beat up truck and jumped into the back seat. They unfurled the folded paper with Keith’s number on it and smirked. Lance was talking their ear off but Pidge wasn't listening. They were plotting a scheme.


	8. Tumbleweeds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry im a bit late with this one :'( i had three tests in a week then i hit major writers block :(((((((

The first week back had gone fine- all things considering. Shiro dropped me off Sunday afternoon with a wave, Mrs. Gonzalez nagged me only a little, and the third semester started the next morning. It was strange being back, even though I was only gone for a week. Odessa was small and quiet and spread out from itself whereas Dallas was large and loud and everything was cramming in on everything else. It was hard to be truly alone there; I could hear snippets of conversations everywhere, the people next door, the people upstairs, the couple down the grocery aisle arguing over potato chips.

It was kind of nice once I got over the closeness of everything. Because none of those interactions had any meaning to them, in a sense. What other people did was so inconsequential to me that it never really mattered that I witnessed it in the first place. In Odessa however, one person’s business was everyone’s business. If one of my classmates said something rude to their sister in school, the gossip would make its way down the grapevine and the kid would get called down after church service to talk to the priest. Even with news traveling like wildfire and threat of “confession,” kids (and adults, let's be real here) still found it in themselves to give a shit about other people's drama. Gender, sexuality, race, religion, divorces, pregnancies, and whatever else were all suspect to ridicule and scorn. I figured that was why my classmates rejected me so harshly. I cut my hair differently, my face and skin looked different, I wasn't even from around there. I don't know what else they wanted from me.

Whatever the reason was, the Gonzalez’s knew about it. In a small town like this, it would be impossible for them to not know about it. So when Thursday night rolled around and Mr. Gonzalez called me out back to the shed, I had more than a guess about what he would talk to me about.

I followed him outside to shed, trying to look calm by watching the sunset in the distance. Maybe I was just trying to avoid the impending conversation. He was whistling and swinging his keys around his finger, a spring in his step. He looked over his shoulder at me and I gave him the blankest expression I could muster. He merely grinned.

“Do you know why I asked you to come out here?”

“No,” I lied. I wanted to let him feel in control for once.

“Ah good. Jenine didn’t mention anything to you then. Well… since I know how much you like looking at nature, I was thinking you and I could go hiking.”

“...What?

“Yeah!” Mr. Gonzalez beamed at me excitedly, gesturing to the shed behind him. “I already have the gear and things for us to use. And I managed to talk Jenine into letting us go tomorrow.”

“But...won’t I get in trouble with the school?”

“Already taken care of!”

“Uh...alright?”

He grinned at me again and turned to unlock the shed doors. He threw them open and started hauling out packs and gear. I could just barely hear my foster father’s voice over the sound of things being shoved around haphazardly.

“It’ll be a couple hours’ drive so we have to leave early tomorrow morning if we want to maximise our time out there.”

“And uh...where are we going?”

“I want it to be a surprise for you… but I can give you a hint: it's three hours away from here,” Gonzalez paused for a moment before grinning at me again. “Give or take thirty minutes.”

“Well… alright,” I gave him a small smile of relief and gratitude, whether he understood why or not. He seemed pleased at me. “So I guess I’ll head upstairs and get ready for tomorrow…?”

“Yes! Yes my boy, by all means, go get some rest. I’ll take care of everything down here!”

Mrs. Gonzalez was waiting for me by the back door. She looked like she had recently sucked a particularly sour lemon. I tried to smile at her but the best I could do was twist my face into a half grimace. She scowled at me and shooed me upstairs. The room they had given me had never felt safer than when I retreated there.

* * *

 

The next morning, after the promised three hour drive, we found ourselves rolling into Guadalupe mountain national park, empty besides the prairie dogs popping up from the ground to watch us. The sun was shining brightly as we put on sunscreen and our hiking gear. Gonzalez unfolded the map he had nabbed from the park ranger’s welcome center and traced some of the trails with his finger. He tapped one excitedly.

“Keith, I think we should do this one!”

It was a large loop around some of the more forested areas of the park that ended up not too far north from where we parked. I noticed that the loop would take about four hours to hike but it crossed into New Mexico territory at one point. I figured I’d go along with Gonzalez.

“That sounds cool. More forest means more shade right?”

“Don’t you worry about that, I brought hats!” He pulled two very large floppy hats, the kind fashionable women in the early 1900’s wore but just without the feathers and gaudy designs, out of his bag. I definitely had no clue how he fit both of them in there. This man was just one surprise after another. I kind of wondered how he ended up with ‘No fun, just rules’ Jenine Gonzalez. Maybe what they said about opposites attracting was true.

In any case, Gonzalez was not kidding when he told me he had everything under control. I had known from before that he liked nature and exploring and stuff from looking at his boy scout sashes and various survival equipment. He had even lent me a telescope and compass last summer so I could stargaze. But what I didn’t expect was the sheer amount of knowledge he had on the trees and plants in the area. For almost the entire first hour of the hike, he pointed out various plants and told me what their names were and how they had been used as medicine by the natives and early settlers. He pointed out plants that could treat burns and others that could be gathered for food. I refused his offer to show me how to cook them but I believed him anyway.

We were nearing the New Mexico border when we saw asphalt. It was old and faded and crumbled, like it hadn't been maintained in a long time. Mr. Gonzalez unfurled his hiking map and looked at it for a moment.

“There should be an old bus station nearby,” he announced. “How about you look for it a ways a head and I’ll catch up. We can eat lunch there.”

I nodded and started trudging down the dirt paths, slowly losing sight of Mr. Gonzalez when I turned around. The roll of the hills and plants (mostly joshua cacti) obscuring my view of him. I pressed on forward. A run down old structure came into view just ahead, long cracks in the walls visible from the distance. It was more than a little concerning. As I walked towards it, I looked back to try and find my foster dad on the trail behind me.

“Keith?”

“Wha-”

I spun around on my heel to find the voice behind me, but lost my balance on the uneven ground and toppled over a tangle of dried up weeds. Pidge’s face twisted to a strained frown, badly disguising their amusement. They waved me over to the old bus stop where they were standing. I picked myself up and walked over, still dazed and confused.

“Hey Keith!”

“Uh...Hi Pidge.”

“So what are you doing out here? Skipping class?”

“No!”The tone of my own voice shocked me a little. I swallowed hard. “No, I’m...I’m out hiking with my foster dad. He’s somewhere over there,” I motioned over to the trail I had just emerged from. Pidge glanced over then looked back to me. I got the feeling I was being studied.

“Oh alright then…” They looked me up and down before relaxing. “How was your week with Shiro? Are you back in school yet?”

“Yeah but Mr. Gonzalez -that's my foster dad- wanted to show me something out here.”

“Out here? A little far from home isn't it?”

“Well yeah, took a few hours to drive here but Gonzalez says it's worth it, so.”

“I see.” Pidge threw a look over their shoulder quickly. “Well, I’m heading to Miami with some friends for a robotics competition.”

“Really? That's really cool! I hope you do well.”

“Yeah...actually if I could have your number I could tell you how it goes!”

“Sure. I don't have signal out here but if you send a text I can reply later.”

“Perfect.”

I fished a scrap of paper out of my bag, a receipt from the store this morning, and Pidge offered me a pen. It took a moment to scribble my phone number onto it before handing it back to Pidge.

“There you are. I hope to hear that your robot beat up everyone else’s.” It suddenly occurred to me that Pidge was very, very far from Key West. I stared at them for a second. “Hold on, you were here visiting your dad right? Shiro told me you do that sometimes.”

“What?”

“You come to Houston to see your dad and brother? Although you're a little far from the city aren't you?”

“Uh yeah. My friends got lost.”

Honestly, it was very impressive to get so far west of Houston before realizing Miami was the other direction. Pidge looked to be deep in thought.

“Pidge we have to leave,” a voice called from the distance.

“Whoops, anyway I got to run. Talk to you later Keith!”

“Later,” I waved Pidge off as they ran off. I turned to look for Gonzalez in the foliage but couldn't see him. I didn't see Pidge either when I looked for them. I couldn't see a car or functioning road, in fact. It had been a while since something weird had happened to me but right then, I thought about the night I met Lance.


	9. The Y Documents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the longest chapter so far to make up for being behind schedule ;) i really like talking through keith's voice honestly

Things got worse with Mrs. Gonzalez over the next couple of weeks. It wasn't as if I was failing classes or causing fights or anything else; Mr. Gonzalez and I just bonded over nature and being outside. Not too long after the hiking trip, he gave me a hiking compass. It was a really nice one with an inclinometer included, a model identical to his. He swelled up with pride when I had asked how to use it. He had even offered to teach me how to navigate by the constellations. We were supposed to go out to the desert plains just outside of town next Friday night. Mr. Gonzalez was growing on me. His wife however, disapproved of his actions and thought he was spoiling me. I suppose it would be easy to spoil a kid who's never had anything before anyway.

 

When the two of them started hashing it out in the kitchen or at the table over dinner, I would just retreat to my room to block out the noise. The other two kids living there stayed out of the way for the most part. They didn't want Mrs. Gonzalez to turn her wrath onto them. I didn't blame them; they were just little kids. I just hoped they'd be able to get to nice families.

 

It wasn't always bad though. Shiro would drive over on weekends he wasn't working and we’d go out to the movies or the arcade or someplace just to talk. Mrs. Gonzalez hated it because she was losing her control over me but she couldn't do much other than complain. Shiro had become more than a little comfortable with pulling the police officer card. The younger foster kid, a six year old boy, was jealous that I had a friend to leave the house with. The older one, an eleven year old girl, would watch me leave with a mixed expression of sadness and resignation. Nearing her teen years, I knew she was getting worried.

 

Another highlight was talking to Pidge, however. After our encounter in the desert, I had been worried that I accidentally wrote down the wrong number (or not actually giving them my phone number considering the strange circumstances) but Pidge made conversation easy and not awkward. They would start with a topic then lead from there. I found that they loved occult alien movies just as much as I did, even if they were scientifically critical of them. Only a day or two after I saw them, I had gotten four pictures of the robot they built and two videos of it fighting. Pidge could easily be heard yelling behind the camera in both of them and would occasionally turn their phone around to show me their excitement, obviously not the person controlling the robot. I absently wondered who had been.

 

That had been almost a month ago now. It was now the Sunday of president’s day weekend and Texas public schools had that Monday off. Shiro offered to take that day off so I could spend the weekend in Dallas. We were sprawled across Shiro’s huge couches flipping through Shiro’s movie collection and suggesting random movies out loud to look up. A video call with Pidge filled the top left corner of Shiro’s fancy WiFi t.v. They sighed as they scrolled through page after page of obscure movie websites.

 

“How about Legend of West End?”

 

“Seen it,” Shiro and I both groaned.

 

“Fine.” The sound of Pidge typing could be heard faintly through their laptop microphone. “What about The Tiger, the Sorceress, and the Cabinet?”

 

“No,” Shiro sighed again.

 

Pidge made a frustrated sound and let their head fall onto their keyboard, their flyaway hair sticking out into the camera.

 

Pidge said something but between the keyboard and their hair, Pidge’s voice was muffled through the call. Shiro’s huffy laugh told me he understood though.

 

“Sorry kiddo.”

 

“What about…” Pidge’s head popped up and they started typing rapidly again. A soft buzzing filled the air and Pidge looked around quickly before grabbing something from the floor. “Oh shoot, give me a second guys.”

 

Shiro nodded and Pidge tapped at their phone, rolling away from their laptop. I turned my attention to my phone instead. Pidge’s voice was faint through the tv.

 

“It's due tomorrow dude...No, I'm not going to do it for you. Why didn't you ask Hunk for help? He's better at physics than me anyway.”

 

I looked up and stared at the screen where Pidge had rolled their chair across their bedroom floor, the side of their face just barely visible through their hair. The person I had met that offered me a ride then vanished in front of me… His name was Hunk too. Pidge was listening to the caller (uncharacteristically patiently) and started turning back to their computer. I averted my gaze and casually inspected Shiro’s television setup. I could see Pidge out of the corner of my eye give me a long look before their lips twitched up at the corner.

 

“If Hunk already told you no, then I can't really help you. I don't care if you're in Miami right now; you're on your own, Lance.”

 

Pidge grinned into space as my eyes snapped back to the screen. I could see Lance’s inky blue eyes in my mind, unclouded by memory or haze of dream. Maybe…?

 

“But anyway, I have to go; see you tomorrow.” They tossed their phone onto their bed before grinning at the camera. “What's up Keith? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

 

Shiro sent me a questioning look; I was just as confused as him though. Pidge was the only one of us that didn't look confused. I made a mental note that Pidge was wickedly good at hitting hidden nails on the head. I shook my head at Shiro.

 

“It's nothing. I was just lost in thought.”

 

“Hmm…” Pidge dramatically tapped their chin with a finger. “I suppose that's an acceptable excuse.”

 

“Excuse for what?”

 

“Oh you know,” they smirked at me, “staring off and thinking of someone.”

 

“I wasn't thinking of anyone!”

 

“Hey, there's no need to get heated.” Shiro smiled at the two of us and waited until I calmed down a little. “So, who were you thinking about?”

 

“Agh!”

 

I flopped over on the couch and buried my face in a pillow. I mean, what would I say to them? That I keep thinking about a person I've only met twice? That I haven't forgotten a ghost’s eyes? No thanks.

 

“Keith,” Pidge dragged out, “you can talk to us.”

 

“Yeah, buddy. We’re your friends.”

 

I could hear the smile in Shiro's voice. Well fuck, it’d be hard to lie to them after that.

 

“It’s just,” I lifted my head from the pillow so they could hear me clearly. “I've never had friends before. Not like you guys. I was just thinking about how I liked the feeling it it.”

 

Shiro and Pidge blinked at me, Shiro's mouth slightly open. Even Pidge looked like they weren't expecting that. I couldn't believe I dodged that bullet. Shiro closed his mouth and cleared his throat with a small cough.

 

“Pidge, I think Keith should pick the movie.”

 

“Yeah,” they nodded. “Anything. Even that weird french one you suggested.”

* * *

 

Shiro got an urgent call from the Houston NASA department halfway through the movie. He apologized to me and Pidge but said he had to leave. The job would be a few days long so he wouldn't be able to drive me home. I told him it was fine to drop me off at the bus station.

 

The station was surprisingly quiet. It was strange to be there in the late afternoon by myself. Sundays were usually bustling with activity and people going home. Maybe it was the holiday the next day that was sending everyone else off track. Even the guy at the ticket booth had taken a break. The little ‘be back at’ clock was set for 5:30. I had the whole platform to myself for an hour.

 

I plopped my bag onto a nearby bench and stretched out onto the metal, bag under my head. I had been fiddling with my phone for a few minutes when footsteps echoed off the floors and a shadow crossed my face. The sound stopped abruptly just behind my bench.

 

“Keith…?” Lance’s face loomed over the back of the bench, eyes wide and mouth hanging slack.

 

“Shit!” I jerked my head up in shock but only managed to headbutt Lance on the way up. He staggered back clutching his forehead.

 

“Jesus and they say you can't feel pain in dreams; ¡Coño!”

 

I peeked at him from behind my own hands on my head. He was wearing some tacky shorts and tank top outfit and he looked...good. I hadn't realized (or maybe forgot) some of his details. The sunlight definitely suited him. It lit up his skin like bronze and warmed his brown hair. The boy who loved the stars was lucky; he radiated like the sun.

 

“What the fuck dude,” he spat at me, eyes deep and dark and twisting like the ocean. They glimmered good naturedly in the golden sunlight, the tilt of his mouth telling me he wasn't actually upset.

 

“Uh sorry…” I tried my hardest to not stare at him. “I wasn't expecting you.”

 

“Yeah dude, same!” Lance’s face broke into a wide grin and he hopped over the back of the bench next to me. “I haven't dreamt of you in like, forever.”

 

“You've been-?”

 

“Anyway man, what's up? How's it been?”

 

“Oh uh same old, I guess.” I shrugged, relaxing a bit. Lance probably just let something personal slip. I didn't want to make him more uncomfortable that he probably already was by bringing it up again. “How has the new year been for you so far?”

 

“Oh man it's been a blast! My family had this crazy new years party where everyone in the neighborhood was invited! My whole school was there probably. Then my friends built this robot over the break and they let me drive it! They even took me to the competition!”

 

“Robot competition…?” Lance didn't seem like the type to be excited over mechanics.

 

“Yeah like robotic clubs and stuff. My friends are the only ones in the club but built this kickass robot by themselves! I think I got some pictures, hold on.”

 

Lance dug his phone out of his pocket and tapped at it furiously until he grinned triumphantly. He turned the screen to me.

 

“See? Isn't it awesome? It kicked so much ass.”

 

I went cold when I saw the robot. It looked familiar. As in- it looked exactly like the one Pidge had showed me. The back of my mind reminded me I had never seen who was driving the robot in the videos Pidge had sent. I looked up at Lance with a shaky smile.

 

“Sweet…”

 

“Yup.” He looked pleased with himself. “This little guy put my school on the map. My buddies got so much air time on the local news station.” He was proud of his friends. It was oddly sweet to hear him talk about them, even if my gut was wrong and I didn’t know them.

 

“Uh what school is it? I may have heard of it.”

 

“Coral Senior High. Best robotics club this side of the Mississippi.”

 

“Big talk for the designated driver,” I smirked at him. I had never fucking heard of his school but I wasn’t going to tell him that. I had to remember to look up the school later though.

 

“You're just jealous because you didn't drive it. Don't worry; Loads of people are jealous of me.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” I rolled my eyes at him. Conversation with Lance was easy. It was a nice rhythm we fell into, even though it's been awhile since I last saw him.

 

“No really! I don't mean to sound full of myself-”

 

“But you do.”

 

“But,” Lance continued, “there are some people that would kill to have my life. I mean?” He ran his hand through his hair and winked at me. “Brains, looks, talent? I'm a triple threat baby.”

 

“Oh I'm sure you have people falling over themselves for you.”

 

“I don't appreciate the sarcasm,” he pointed a finger at me and squinted. “I'll have you know all the girls have eyes only for me. Some guys too.”

 

“Sounds like a real fan club.” Guys too he says? Huh.

 

“You bet. The club president is graduating soon actually. So there's room in the club for you,” he nudged my arm with his elbow. I think my consciousness imploded.

 

“It was super cool to see you though, Keith.” He put a hand on my shoulder and lifted himself up. “But a friend is coming to pick me up so I have to go wait outside.”

 

I just nodded, still reeling from everything. I waved as he jumped over the bench and walked away, my mind infuriatingly blank. He walked towards the parking lot, a skip in his step and a faint hum rumbling from his throat. He waved over his shoulder one last time, I’m sure he thought he looked cool doing it. I looked back down at my phone, asleep and forgotten, and realized he hadn’t given me his number yet again. I whirled around to call out to him but he was gone.

 

I chuckled quietly; the bastard knew how to make a quick getaway, I’d give him that. I figured he just jumped into his friend’s car and drove off quickly. I turned back to my phone, unlocking it absent mindedly. The name of his high school looped in my head, over and over until I typed it out into a google search bar.

 

Nothing. At least, nothing on Coral senior high. The search was just coming up with Miami schools called coral reef or coral gables or whatever other variation of the title. I edited the search to include robotics club in it. That would hopefully bring up recent articles about the competition Lance mentioned. And if my gut feeling was right about things, it’d be the same one Pidge talked about. I hit search and the page refreshed, giving me exactly what I wanted. The top link was a news article about the recent event in Miami and the image was of Pidge and Hunk proudly holding up their robot, gold medals on each of them. That was one theory confirmed; the three of them all knew each other. But I didn’t understand how they would if Pidge was in Key West?

 

I clicked the first link and scanned the page to the bottom. It thankfully linked back to the school’s website- I finally caught a break with something. I smirked as I waited for the page to load. The secret that was Lance was about to be cracked. The FBI should definitely hire me. Preferably in the x-files unit but hey, at least my detective skills exist. My triumph was bitter-sweet however. The page loaded and I was met with images of palm trees and beach landscapes, the name of the school in bold letters sitting over its location. In Key West, Florida.

  
“What the fuck.”


	10. There is no up or down in space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love lance!!! And i love writing his interactions with hunk and pidge!!! Please enjoy!!!

Lance was having the best weekend of his life, probably. His abuela had been thrilled that he came up for her birthday, he got free cake and meals, his physics homework sat completed -although rushed- in his bag, and he dreamt of Keith again. All in all, the weekend was his favorite so far that year. Hunk grinned at his best friend humming next to him.

 

“Had a good time in Miami then?”

 

“Buddy you don't even know,” Lance’s smile broke into an even bigger grin.

 

Hunk chuckled as he looked back at the road. He stopped the car with a jolt at a red light.

 

“Did you manage to finish the-?”

 

“Yes, mom,” Lance rolled his eyes before patting the bag at his feet. “Finished it up on the bus here. I even got a nap in! Thank you four hour drive.”

 

“Big talk for someone who rushed through it.”

 

“Says you! I'll have you know I'm passing that class!”

 

“With what,” Hunk asked coyly, pressing the accelerator and lurching the car forward slightly.

 

“Unimportant.”

 

“Dude, you know Iverson is going to say something about it.”

 

“UGH don't give me the lecture. I'll clean it up when I get home.”

 

“You and I both know that's a lie. As soon as your mom lets you out of her hug and force feeds you, you're going to fall asleep.”

 

“What can I say?” Lance shrugged and leaned forward to grab his bag. “I get sleepy on a full stomach.”

 

Hunk made an unconvinced humming noise as he pulled into the McClain driveway. Lance’s mom was standing on the front porch, a soft smile gracing her face. Lance grinned at her and waved through the window. Hunk parked and shut the engine off, Lance throwing open his door and jumping to his mom.

 

“Mamá!”

 

“Lance!” She wrapped his lanky body in a tight hug. “I'm happy to see you again, mijo.”

 

“It's only been a few days!”

 

“Yo sé, pero...” she sighed and took a step back. “I'm still happy. How was abuelita?”

 

“She looked good. She liked the chocolates we picked for her. She was happy to hear that you and Alex were doing good.”

 

“Did you tell her-”

 

“About Alex? Aye mamí no. You know how abuela is.”

 

“Okay good.” She patted his shoulder before turning to Hunk. “Hunk, thank you as usual for getting Lance.”

 

“No problem at all, Mrs. McClain. At least this time it was just from the bus stop,” he said with a smirk to Lance.

 

“Still,” Mrs. McClain said, ignoring her son’s groan. “You're welcome to come for dinner whenever you want.”

 

“Aw thank you, Mrs McClain.”

 

“Please please,” she put a hand on Hunk’s arm, “I’ve told you before, call me Carmen.”

 

“Okay Mrs Carmen.”

 

Carmen laughed and reached up to kiss Hunk’s cheek before gently pushing him towards his car.

 

“Now go home and say hi to your mom.”

 

“Alright,” Hunk laughed. He walked to the driver’s side and hauled the door open. He waved at Lance and Carmen. “Bye! I'll see you tomorrow!”

 

The McClains waved him off as he backed into the street. When Hunk had turned at the corner, Carmen gave her son a look. She gestured to the house where Lance saw the front curtains rustling.

 

“¿No le dijiste por qué no me fui, verdad?”

 

“No, mama. Alex es mi hermana,” Lance sighed heavily. “Si ella no quiere que le digamos al abuela entonces no le diremos.”

 

Lance’s mom smiled and patted his cheek, before heading back towards the front door. Lance hung outside for a moment to catch his younger sister’s tiny wave of thanks from her open bedroom window. He grinned at her, then followed his mom inside where the smell of his mom’s cooking was already starting to fill the house.

* * *

 

    “For the one hundredth time, Lance,” Pidge groaned over their sandwich, “I don’t care about what you dreamt last night.”

 

“Oh come on, I haven’t even started talking about it!”

 

“Yeah and it’ll be -like every other time you’ve talked about your dreams- completely incoherent to everyone but you.”

 

“That’s not true!”

 

“It kind of is, dude.” Hunk patted his friend’s shoulder consolingly.

 

Lance pouted off into the distance, the ocean waves taunting him as he took a sad bite of his own sandwich. Part of him was glad their lunch period was an hour because then he had more time to fix his physics homework before Iverson’s class that afternoon. But the other part of him was always upset about it because his friends (Pidge) used the hour exclusively to tease him. The gremlin themself tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

 

“Keep fixing your homework and stop zoning out! Hunk’s already said he’d help you but only if you actually work on it.”

 

“Hunk, buddy,” Lance grinned and threw his arms open for a hug. “You’re my only friend.”

 

Hunk laughed at that and scooted closer to Lance’s side of their lunch tree to get a better look at Lance’s scrawled handwriting. He wrinkled his nose.

 

“You really have to work on your handwriting; this is almost illegible.”

 

“I don't have to work on squat.” Lance's arms fell to his side. “I’ll have you know all the best scientists have messy handwriting.”

 

“But how many of them had Iverson?”

 

“...Fair point.” Lance turned back to Pidge as Hunk looked over his paper. “Anyway, as I was saying-”

 

“As _I_ was saying,” Pidge interrupted, “I don't care about what you dream about.”

 

“Aw, you guys cared that one time I dreamt I got a perfect score on the calculus exam.”

 

“Because you actually did get a perfect score.”

 

“Well, what about the time I dreamt the three of us went to space and found giant alien robots?”

 

“We cared about that one because you wouldn’t answer our questions or give us any details besides the fact that the robots were huge and looked like cats.”

 

“You didn’t even say whether or not the cat robots had whiskers,” Hunk added.

 

“First of all, they were lions and second of all, I told you guys that I couldn't remember! All I know is that my giant alien robot cat was the best.”

 

“And that's why we don't listen to your dreams,” Pidge scoffed.

 

Lance pouted and stared down at his physics homework, absently fixing the problems Hunk pointed at. Pidge rolled their eyes and shut their laptop with a huff.

 

“If you're going to sit there and pout until you tell us, then just tell us.”

 

“Yay!” Lance's frown snapped into a full faced grin, pencil still on his page of homework. “Okay so I was at the bus stop before Hunk picked me up and I guess I fell asleep waiting because there was nobody else at the station when I opened my eyes. I got up and walked around and saw someone’s feet sticking off a bench so I went to say hi.”

 

“Number 17 is wrong. Carry the one,” Hunk pointed out.

 

“Oh shit thanks.” Lance scribbled at the paper for a moment. “Anyway, I walked over to the bench and went to greet the person when I saw it was Keith! You know...from my dream over winter break?”

 

“Keith?” Pidge sat up and raised an eyebrow at Lance. “The one with the fluffy hair you liked?”

 

“I never said I liked it; it's a mullet for christs sake!

 

“It sure didn't sound like it when you told us back in december.”

 

“ANYWAY We talked about your robot and he seemed interested but he wasn't nerding out like you two do so it was actually fun talking about it. Then he decided to take the open spot in my fan club when the current president leaves.”

 

“Now I know this was a dream,” Pidge groaned.

 

“What fan club?” Hunk poked Lance with a pencil. “Because if it's just me and Pidge, neither of us are graduating soon.” He stopped and looked at Pidge suspiciously. “Right?”

 

“I'm not! I promised my mom I’d do as much in high school when classes are free so I had more wiggle room when I hit college.”

 

“Thats right, you better not leave us behind,” Hunk threw an arm over Pidge’s shoulder in a mock headlock. “I’d never forgive you, even if we end up working on the same projects.”

 

“I got it, I got it!” Pidge wiggled out of Hunk’s grip laughing. “Besides why would I leave behind my best engineer and physicist?”

 

Lance grinned at that and lightly punched Pidge’s shoulder.

 

“Sap.”

 

“Yeah, yeah...Now you have to finish revising.”

  
“Dammit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “¿No le dijiste por qué no me fui, verdad?” - you didnt tell her why i didnt go right?  
> "No, mama. Alex es mi hermana,” - no mom. alex is my sister  
> "Si ella no quiere que le digamos al abuela entonces no le diremos.” - if she doesnt want us to tell grandma then we wont tell her


	11. Does bigfoot is real??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was SUPPOSED to be for Pidge's birthday but lmao oh well any way have fun reading this because i had SO much fun writing it ;)

Lance was in Florida. Key West, Florida to be exact. As in, ninety miles away from Cuba -Key West, Florida. I just couldn't understand it, couldn't wrap my brain around it. Why was he in Texas? Why was he all the way in Odessa all those months ago? It just didn't make sense. Nothing was making sense anymore and my head was reeling for the entire bus home. No amount of nagging from Mrs. Gonzales or questions from Mr. Gonzales or even curiosity from the other foster kids could get me to talk about what had happened. Nothing could get me out of the state of shock I had been thrown into.

 

What was the most shocking thing though (besides Lance being in Florida of all places) was that Pidge and Lance and Hunk all went to the same school. And Pidge knew them. They built a robot together. They took that robot to a competition together. I’d bet they had classes together and lunch breaks together. I tried to shake myself out of the trance I had fallen into. It was a trance I was in for the last couple of hours. My phone buzzed in my pocket; I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced down at the screen under my desk. Speak of the devil.

 

10:17 AM

[Swamp Child]: keith!!!

[Swamp Child]: lmao i almost forgot what i set your nickname as

[Swamp Child]: anyway i wanted to tell you that my club is gonna go to another competition!

[Swamp Child]: and this time...it's in Houston! I've already texted shiro and asked if he could make it

[Elmendorf]: it's in texas? when? what did shiro say??

[Swamp Child]: what day is today, the 21st? It's during my spring break next month

[Swamp Child]: hold on i can give you the exact dates

 

I glanced up from my desk to the front of the room to see if the teacher was looking at me. She wasn't. She was still droning on about matrix boxes or something. I thought this class was chemistry? I looked back down as my phone buzzed again.

 

[Swamp Child]: okay my spring break is march 12-16 plus the weekends of course

[Swamp Child]: the competition is the 15-17, so that thursday through saturday

[Elmendorf]: and shiro?

[Swamp Child]: said he'd ask for that time off

[Swamp Child]: Id bet you could ask him for a ride

[Elmendorf]: well my break isn't until the week after. maybe i could go that saturday though

[Swamp Child]: pleeeeaaaaaseeee?? it'd be fun! plus you'd get to see my super cool awesome robot in person

[Elmendorf]: yeah yeah i'll go

[Swamp Child]: Yay! It should just be me and Hunk seeing as how we're the only official club members but-

[Swamp Child]: nvm

[Elmendorf]: ???

[Swamp Child]: anyway shiro already has the address of the convention center so you two should be good

[Elmendorf]: but piahdkrvsj

 

“KOGANE!”

 

I jolted up and shoved my phone in my pocket as quickly as possible. The teacher was glaring me down from the front of the room. The other students glanced back at me and snickered behind raised hands.

 

“Were you just using your phone in my class?”

 

“No ma’am.”

 

“I do not tolerate lying or class disruptions.”

 

“He was probably texting his boyfriend,” a girl in the front cooed. Her friends next to her bit back their laughter. Some of the guys close to me smirked.

 

“Detention all next week, Kogane. And I’ll make sure it's with Father Grayson.”

* * *

 

They were waiting for me outside after detention the next monday. I was surprised that they had waited so long. I’d given them the slip all last week after what had happened in class; I figured they'd give up and forget about it. I was wrong. The biggest one, Skylar, grinned at me as he stepped forward.

 

“Keith, keith, keith...when will you learn?”

 

I tried to step away from his oncoming form. One of his buddies blocked my way. Skylar stopped a few feet away from me.

 

“How many times do we need to have this talk?”

 

“Hm, I think the first one was fine,” I paused in mock thought. “The second, third, and fourth were overkill.”

 

“But here we are.” He cracked his knuckles loudly. “Time to make it the fifth.”

* * *

 

Shiro and I stepped into the convention center and were immediately floored by the amount of people walking around. Robots were being hauled left and right, metal clanking and squealing as their builders hustled around. We wandered the open hall for a few minutes before literally bumping into Hunk, whose face lit up when he recognized me. He pulled me into a tight hug before shaking Shiro’s hand and pulling us towards their booth, Pidge fussing with their little robot. Pidge looked up with a grin and waved us over.

 

“Hey guys! Glad you could make it, Keith.”

 

“Yeah…” I saw Shiro glance at me quickly; time to redirect focus. “So uh,” I tapped the paperwork next to the robot, “what's next up for this guy here?”

 

“She's got a few more events but the biggest one today is the fight!” Pidge turned to Hunk, “When is that again?”

 

“Three thirty.”

 

“Nice, prime time.”

 

“Is it a free-for-all or are you up against a certain team?”

 

“A bit of both!” Pidge turned their excitement to Shiro. “Hunk, would you care to do the honors?”

 

“It'd be my pleasure.” He half bowed and gestured to the robot on the table. “In the preliminary round, we are put into specific groups of four based on criteria determined over the last two days. The winner from that group is then sent to the final -a massive free for all against all the other winners from each group!”

 

“Doesn't the robot get damaged?”

 

“Not if your driver is any good,” Pidge said with a wink. “Ours is awol right now so if he doesn't show up for the final, you or Keith could drive it.”

 

“Excuse you, don't give him that much credit. The only reason why he doesn't wreck it every time is because I'm halfway decent with the machinery.”

 

“But you'd be doing way more repairs if he was any worse a driver,” Pidge patted Hunk’s elbow sympathetically.

 

“You got me there”.

 

Shiro sent me a questioning look but I shrugged. I didn't actually know anything and was solely going on information given by the saint of a human being that explained things to me. My gaze wandered towards the crowd as Shiro asked questions about the robot. There were teams from all over the southeast, from Virginia to Texas. A Miami team a few booths down stood out to me. They had a girl with the reddest hair I’d ever seen and another girl with curly brown hair bustling around the table with their other teammates.

 

I suddenly felt very out of place. Shiro was still in deep conversation with Pidge and Hunk so I slipped away while they were distracted. The chaos that was the crowd swallowed the space around me and I melted into it, slowly trying to get to the edge of the room. I passed the table for a Georgia school and caught a glimpse of a bathroom sign not too far away. I squeezed past the frantic students and darted into the bathroom for safety.

 

Despite the crowd outside, the bathroom was empty. I walked up to a sink and turned on the water. The slightly warped mirror reflected my black eye back at me, still swollen even after all this time. I sighed and splashed water on my face. I fumbled to shut the water off and grabbed for the stack of paper towels sitting on the counter. They were rough and a little damp but I guess they worked fine. The door creaked as it opened, someone humming as they turned towards the sink. I peeked at them from over the paper towel and-

 

“Lance!”

 

He flinched and turned to me quickly before grinning and rubbing the back of his neck.

 

“Sorry dude, I didn't see you there.”

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“Oh I'm here for the competition. I begged my friends to let me come and drive the robot.” He smirked. “I'm practically part of the club by now.”

 

“No, I meant why are you here in Texas? Aren't you from Florida?”

 

“Yeah? But the competition is here in Texas...I should be asking you why you're here!”

 

“I live here???”

 

“Yeah I know you're a figment of my imagination and all but why am I dreaming right now?” He gasped and looked to the mirror. “Did I pass out in the bathroom?”

 

“Um? What?”

 

“Hm,” he tapped his chin thoughtfully, not looking me in the eye, “How would one explain dreams to a dream? This is too meta for me.”

 

“I'm not a dream!”

 

“You're right, you're more of a mixed nightmare, what with the mullet and bad personality.”

 

“I don't have a bad personality!” I huffed and tossed the wadded paper towel into the trash bin. “Just- move and let me leave.”

 

“Dream you later, E.T.”

 

I pushed past Lance and out of the bathroom, immediately caught up in the sea of people. My phone started buzzing in my pocket; a quick glance showed me it was Pidge.

 

12:06 PM

[Swamp Child]: hurry up!! our first event is about to start!

[Swamp Child]: we’re in room 3b. Shiro's practicing driving now

[Elmendorf]: ill be there soob

[Swamp Child]: haha _soob_

[Swamp Child]: also hunk’s been giving me weird looks and i think it's about you?

[Swamp Child]: i mean there's no particular reason why i'd think that

[Swamp Child]:  especially considering this is the first time you've met

[Elmendorf]: uh

[Elmendorf]: actually ill tell you later it's a little weird

[Elmendorf]: also im outside the room but there's security?

[Swamp Child]: oh, yeah just ignore them and walk through

[Swamp Child]: We’re on the left side

[Swamp Child]: shiro is already kicking some major butt!


	12. Chapter 12

Lance wasn't really the kind of guy to look too deeply into his dreams. If he dreamt about pink plastic shorts and yellow umbrellas against a gray background, he didn't go looking for a subconscious meaning behind it. Besides, dream analysis was lost on him years ago when he tried looking up a dream with various benign symbols and long dead Mr. Freud said it was dicks. Everything. Dicks with a splash of latent homosexuality. And while part of it was true in the long run, Lance didn't want to attribute his coming out to an old fart with a phallic preoccupation.

 

But when Keith showed up in his dream yet again, Lance was starting to get a little worried. Not only was each dream unsettlingly realistic in comparison to Lance's other dreams, Keith himself was realistic in a way random people in Lance's dreams never were. He sported a nasty looking black eye (still healing) and had his stupid mullet pulled back into a tiny ponytail; Lance figured only a dream would be such a lost cause. Besides, Lance just saw Keith walk out his dream through the bathroom door like it was nothing! His dreams were never that abrupt and out of his control; it was starting to become a cause for concern.

 

Lance pinched his arm to wake himself up and looked at himself in the mirror, staring down his reflection. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, barely glancing at three missed calls from Hunk and a series of texts from Pidge. He brought up google and searched what it meant to dream about a specific person over the time span of four months. The time slowly ticked by as he dug through website after website of pseudo occult articles and ignoring the steady flow of texts from Hunk and Pidge. Lance grimaced at the mixed results of general dream analysis and the messages behind recurring dreams; nothing could explain Keith’s appearances in Lance’s dreams. Lance was sure he had never seen Keith before his initial dream, even in passing like a stranger on the street or something, like dream analysts say happens a lot. So where had Keith come from?

 

Lance was content to stand in the bathroom to collect his thought as his sleep deprived brain slowly woke itself up. Despite the heavy crowds just outside, the bathroom itself was empty and quiet except for Lance’s hushed mumbles to himself. After a while, once Lance was fully awake and alert, he started to think the eerie silence was creepy and how strange it was that absolutely no one on the competition floor had come to use the restroom in the forty five minutes he had been standing there. He almost thought he might be dreaming again when the door to the bathroom swung open with a loud squeal and Lance shoved his buzzing phone into his pocket. He casually glanced over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the newcomer. A tall man with black hair and a tuft of bleached bangs nodded at him before looking at him closely and giving him a curious crooked smile.

 

“Lance right?”

 

“Uh, yeah?”

 

“It's nice to meet you,” He stuck his out out to Lance. “I’m Shiro.”

 

“Oh!” Lance took Shiro’s hand and shook firmly. “Pidge has told me so much about you.”

 

“Hunk pretty much said the same thing,” Shiro chuckled. “I guess I'm kind of popular.”

 

“Yeah! The teachers back home always talk about you and how you work for NASA!”

 

“Well,” Shiro shrugged, “I don't

really work for NASA. They just request me from the police department sometimes.”

 

“But that's still crazy cool! I’d ask what top NASA scientists are like but I know Matt.”

 

“Yeah,” Shiro laughed. “Matt’s quite a guy. We went to school together back in Florida, you know.”

 

“Yeah, Pidge told me that's how they know you.”

 

“So uh, Lance…”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I don’t mean to pry because obviously I’ve just met you, but you should give Hunk a call. He’d come to track you down himself but he’s busy-”

 

“Busy with the robot,” Lance sighed. “Yeah I know. I’ve just… been having a weird day.”

 

“I’m sure Hunk will understand. Just- give him a call okay?”

 

“Yeah alright. So uh, you live here in Texas right? What part?”

 

“Oh I live up north in Dallas.”

 

“Cowboys fan?”

 

“Occasionally. But the Dolphins are…” Shiro stopped and pulled his phone out of his pocket, eyes flicking quickly as he read whatever was on the screen. “Sorry, that was my friend. It's getting about time for us to leave and he's getting a little antsy.”

 

“Oh uh, yeah that's no problem. It was cool meeting you though.”

 

“Same to you!” Shiro offered his hand for another shake. “Have a safe drive back to Florida.”

 

“Thanks, you too.”

 

Shiro chuckled as he left the bathroom and Lance hit his hand against his head.

 

“You too? What were you thinking man?”

 

He sighed and checked his phone. Hunk was crying in the group chat. Pidge was surprisingly (and uncharacteristically) silent. He left the bathroom and wadded into the sea of people and dialed Hunk.

* * *

 

“Pidge?”

 

“Yes Hunk?”

 

“Was that the Keith…”

 

“The Keith Lance keeps going on about? Probably.”

 

“And how?”

 

“How did you or Lance meet him when he lives here in Texas? I’m still trying to figure that one out.”

 

“Ah.” Hunk tapped his fingers against their prep table in a beat of silence. “And uh, how exactly are you so calm about this?”

 

“Because I met him too. In the weird way, like you and Lance.”

 

“What? When? Why didn't you say anything?”

 

“I dunno,” Pidge shrugged. “I wanted to figure it out first.”

 

“Does Lance know?!”

 

“Pfft of course not. He wouldn't have believed me even if I had told him. Besides, he's the one so hung up about this; he should be the one to figure it out.”

 

“I see your point. I just feel kind of bad…”

 

“I don’t,” Pidge grunted. “As much as I want to figure it out, there's no way I'm helping those idiots out.”

* * *

 

The drive to the airport was like agony to Lance. Pidge and Hunk were gushing about their robot and he couldn't get a word in edgewise. He was happy for them of course- the S.S. Irony was their pride and joy after all. But his head was buzzing with thoughts of Keith. Lance was almost convinced he was real; the dreams were just too real to be normal dreams. He wanted his friend’s opinions about it though. He knew how crazy it sounded to claim that a real, live person was showing up in his dreams. Nothing about any of it made sense though! How would it even be possible for Keith to be real? Was he a dream walker? Was that even a thing someone could be?

 

Pidge sighed heavily as Lances finger tapping got too loud and annoying to just ignore. The rental car vibrated just enough for them to know that Lance was bouncing his leg violently. Hunk glanced away from the road and caught Pidge’s eye. He shrugged and twitched an eyebrow. It was a small sign but Pidge rolled their eyes in exasperation. They shifted in their seat to turn to Lance, who looked like a nervous ball of energy. Pidge knew they were going to regret this.

 

“What’d you think about the competition, Lance?”

 

It was like Lance exploded. Where just a second ago, only his leg was bouncing, now his whole body was vibrating. He looked animated with whatever conspiracy induced hype he had coursing through his head.

 

“I think Keith may be a real person I just don't know how to explain why I think that or even how its possible for him to be real but I keep dreaming about him and nothing makes sense and I couldn't find anything on the internet about this kind of thing -even though I only looked a little bit- I know it sounds crazy and impossible but I think he's real.”

 

Lance sucked in a deep breath to continue with his hair-brained theory but visibly deflated when he heard Pidge laughing at him. He pouted.

 

“Seriously guys… I can’t explain it but I  _ know  _ he’s real. His stupid hair was too ugly for me to come up with myself.”

 

“And have you ever really seen a black eye?” Hunk chuckled. “That doesn't really seem like something you'd dream about.”

 

“Yeah! Wait. When did I mention he had a black eye?”

 

Pidge only looked at him with a glimmer in their eyes, a sure sign of disaster. Lance had the overwhelming, but not unfamiliar, sense that they knew more than they let on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone its been so long :') this is taking a while but i promise its almost over

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Miami, FL to Orlando, FL](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9299282) by [bodingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodingly/pseuds/bodingly)




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